nyota_uhura24 | [SOL! Verse - Walk a Mile in My Shoes]

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[SOL! Verse - Walk a Mile in My Shoes]

Nyota couldn't wait to get out of the house. The atmosphere had been tense ever since Kamau had come home bruised and bloody on Saturday night. She'd heard him arguing with their father the day before, but went into the room she shared with Sadiki and closed the door, not really wanting to hear anymore. They seemed to have reached a tentative truce, and she wanted to believe that the matter was over, but some part of her knew that even if they could let go of this particular incident this wasn't really the end. It wasn't the first time Kamau's choices had caused tension, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

In any event, she was more than happy to bid farewell to her family for the evening. It wasn't even a lie to say she was going to meet a friend, even if there was no reason to inform her family that she was going to see Jim and he was going to teach her to dance. She shook off the feelings of guilt and focused on the fact that she was finally going to do something she'd been dreaming about since she was a little girl. Dancing with him in the diner was more fun than she'd ever imagined it could be. It simply felt right to move that way to the music, to be held in his arms. She wanted to feel that way again, slightly breathless but completely comfortable. In the process, she knew she'd have the opportunity to learn more about the man whose music spoke to her before they'd even introduced themselves. There was no denying that Jim was unlike anyone she'd known before; she looked forward to him constantly surprising her, and to how much she smiled when he was around. Seeing him always made her day a little brighter.

She tried to ignore the little fluttering in her chest as she got off the 2 subway at the stop closest to his house. She didn't go to the Bronx often, so she couldn't help looking around curiously as she walked to his apartment building, high heels clicking softly on the pavement. They seemed like the right shoes for dancing. When she got to the top floor she took a deep breath, feeling suddenly slightly nervous, and knocked.

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"I'm sure you'd look pretty spectacular in white, too." Once more, his mouth seemed to have a mind of its own, and he flitted his eyes away as the obvious innuendo in that hung in the air between them.

He quickly took another bite of food before anything even more damaging could escape him and made sure he chewed slowly to buy himself some time to get his sudden foot-in-mouth disease under control. "Of course I don't mind, it's his business," he shrugged when he'd swallowed his food. And his little pause seemed to have worked because he didn't add that her father would be a fool not to implement the idea. Especially since he had a beautiful daughter with a great voice who'd shine on stage. Once word got out, Jim was sure they'd be packing full houses for the duration.

She complimented his food, and he smiled when he met her eyes again. "Plenty, believe me. I can't draw to save my life, in fact, I'm pretty useless when it comes to anything artistic, though I like going to the occasional museum. I can't keep my mouth shut about things I believe in. I'm also pretty useless at doing laundry which costs me a mint in new t-shirts when I get stains on them, but I'm too stubborn to stop wearing white ones."

There was a boyish grin on his face when he ended his little list of faults and flaws. "Oh, and I've never been able to turn down a challenge or a dare. Which has led to some both terrifically funny and incredibly tragic events."

She blinked in mild surprise at the comment. He couldn't mean...? He kept saying things that caught her slightly off guard, things she didn't quite know how to respond to, but things that still sent little thrills of happiness through her. “Thank you,” she said, not sure how else to reply.

She shook her head a little at the next comment. “I just meant that I should talk to him instead of you. I know what his concerns will be, and he's willing to listen to me sometimes.” She knew her father was forward-thinking about a lot of things, including women's rights, but he still believed that to look after her he had to restrict her in a lot of ways. If her mother were alive, things would be different...

She shook off that train of thought and listened with open amusement as he described his faults. Her brow furrowed slightly when he said that his inability to turn down a dare had led to tragic as well as comedic consequences, but she didn't ask about it. Instead she tilted her head as if in thought. “I can actually draw fairly well, and I'm perfectly capable of getting stains out of white shirts,” she said slowly, and then a grin spread across her face. “I can't bowl to save anyone's life, and I'm terrible at shoveling snow, but I've never lost a snow ball fight. I try to keep my mouth shut about things I believe in, but it doesn't always work, and I have a feeling I'm going to get worse and worse at it around you.”

Her smile turned ever so slightly sly as she added, “As for the challenges and dares, I'm afraid we're out of luck, because I've never been any good at turning them down either.”

Nyota Uhura obviously had much better manners than he did since she let his unfortunate comment slide. An example he was happy to follow. At least until the next time he slipped up.

"If it's only sometimes, he should do it more," he commented, then rolled his eyes at himself in amusement. "See? Can't keep it shut." She was smart and had some very good ideas. In Jim's mind, it was a tragedy that she didn't get to speak freely more often.

He listened as she commented on his little list of flaws and chuckled to himself. "Well, Uhura, it seems we've found something for you to teach me if you insist on doing so. Though I warn you, I really hate doing laundry, and I will complain about it at length."

The grin on her face made one appear on his as well, and the way she stated her own flaws almost seemed like she was proud of them. It was a strange thing to observe, but it rang true for him. Why shouldn't you acknowledge both with equal candor? "I've never been into bowling, or shoveling snow, but I'm not horrible at either. I don't want you to try to keep your mouth shut around me, except if it's to tell me to shovel snow or do laundry. Never about things you believe in. As for the snowball fights, I'm afraid we're at an impasse because I've never lost one either."

Leaning over a little, he gave her an intent look,openly challenging her and knowing she couldn't step back from it. "I had a feeling you couldn't already. So I guess we'll just have to wait until it starts snowing to see who has better aim."

“My dad does the best he can,” she replied gently, wanting to defend her father even though she appreciated Jim's frustration on her behalf. “And for the most part he's always willing to hear me out, even if he doesn't always agree with me.” She bit down on the impulse to say something about Kamau; talking about her brother right now would only end up upsetting her.

As she laughed along about his inability to do laundry, she suddenly wondered how she'd become just Uhura and not Miss Uhura, but realized that she didn't at all mind. As long as he still addressed her properly in pubic there wasn't any reason to correct him, especially when she found she liked the familiarity. “Honestly Jim, doing laundry really isn't that difficult, but if you want to know how to do it properly I can teach you,” she said, trying to keep from laughing at the idea.

She didn't see any reason not to acknowledge her own flaws, though she supposed that some were more difficult to own up to than others. A more serious expression flashed across her face when he said he wanted her to speak her mind about things she believed in. She had absolutely no doubt that he meant it, and it made something in her heart loosen and breathe freely. Speaking so openly was going to take a little getting used to, but she knew she wouldn't long be able to resist the temptation to talk to someone who was as open-minded as he was.

“I hope you don't regret telling me to speak my mind,” she replied, smirking a little. The open challenge of the snow ball fight made her eyes light up a little. “You're challenging the wrong girl, Jim. Don't complain when you lose."

"I know he does," he said quietly and gave her a reassuring smile. He knew it couldn't be easy for Mr. Uhura to keep up a business and bring up a brood of children, especially without their mother there to help. "I admire him for it too, I just... I can't see how anyone wouldn't want to hear what you have to say. They have to be blind not to see how smart you are, how passionate you are about the things you believe in."

He knew he was saying too much again, but when it came to this, he couldn't find it in himself to care. It was too important that she heard someone tell her these things. He reached out to give her hand a soft squeeze and met her eyes, trying to get his message across. "You're a diamond in the rough, Miss Gorgeous. All you need is the right fit, the right setting, and you'll outshine everything around you."

Letting go of her hand and the seriousness that had settled between them, he went back to his dinner, grinning at her idea of teaching him to do laundry. "Stain removal, not laundry. I doubt you'd want to get your hands on my unmentionables," he winked and smirked around another forkful of pasta.

The spark that lit up her eyes at the challenge would probably never fail to make his stomach do that little flip it did, and his own eyes lit up in response. "Funny, I have no intention of losing, though I do think I'm challenging exactly the right girl. I'm looking forward to a victory that isn't easily won."

Edited 2010-11-04 01:30 (UTC)

She knew how difficult it was for her father, especially after he'd lost the love of his life. Her younger siblings probably couldn't remember the way he was before she died, but no matter how well he hid it Nyota could sometimes look at him and see that part of him was missing. Losing his wife had taken away some of the hope she'd always admired about him.

But now Jim was looking at her so intently and telling her what neither her father nor anyone else ever had: that he couldn't understand why someone wouldn't want to hear her speak. Her eyes dropped to his hand on hers, and she couldn't look back at him for a moment because her eyes were prickling with unshed tears. When she managed to respond, her voice was quiet. “There aren't a lot of people who think the way you do. Most don't care about anything past the fact that I'm black and female, and sometimes... I'm afraid no one ever will.”

She looked up at him, and there was a hint of confusion in her eyes, but there was hope too, or barring that at least a conviction that it was too soon to give up. “But there must be more people like you, and as long as there are there's a chance that other people's views will change too. Someday, it is going to be different...” He shoulder slumped ever so slightly. “But I don't know how it'll ever be different for me. I don't know the right setting, Jim.” She shrugged and tried to shake off the sudden seriousness. "I guess I'll just have to keep looking." It bewildered her a little that she was saying all this to him, but he'd said he wanted to hear her speak, and it was almost shockingly easy to believe he meant it.

Her smile became more genuine as he teased her about the laundry. “All right, I'll teach you how to properly remove a strain, though I do hope you're washing all your clothes properly. They won't last otherwise.”

The hint of sadness faded from her eyes as he kept challenging her. It gave her an outlet for all the frustrated energy that seemed to build up inside her, and she really couldn't back down when he was looking at her like that. “I suppose I can let you entertain delusions of victory until the match."

It made his heart clench to see how affected she was by being told something so simple, and he had a feeling no one had ever said they wanted to listen to her and meant it before. But he'd succeeded in his goal to make her open up to him, and while it pained him to hear that she had such a bleak outlook on her future, he treasured the fact that she was confiding in him.

"Most people spend their whole lives never looking beyond the tips of their own noses, they don't know what goes on in the world and they don't care. They've never seen death, they've never made a kid smile in the midst of chaos just by making a funny face. They talk about Heaven and Hell like the blind about colors, but they've never experienced either. And yet they still feel it's their right to pass judgment on others," he said gravely, unable to keep a hint of bitterness from his voice. "You're right. I'm not most people. Not a day goes by that I'm not grateful for that."

He drummed his fingers agitatedly on the table and studied her with narrowed eyes, wondering how he could make her understand that if you didn't like your setting, you could change it. That you could find a new one and make it fit instead of forcing yourself to fit into a life that was too tight around the edges. There was a small ember of hope in her eyes, and he wanted to stoke it into a blazing fire and make her feel like nothing could stop her.

His eyes caught the flicker of the dying neon light on the roof, and he shot out of his seat and into the bathroom, plugging the bathtub and turning on the water. When he came back out, he gestured absently to his kitchen drawers. "Candles are in the third drawer, matches in the second. Light some, will you?" As she complied, he paced the floor a few times, his eyes sweeping the room searchingly until he spotted the lamp by the recliner in the corner with a triumphant "Ha!".

He took her hand and dragged her with him as he moved in on the lamp, pulling it from its place and with him into the bathroom. "See that really annoying flicker from the sign of the roof?" he asked her, not waiting for her to answer before he turned off the water in the bathtub and unceremoniously dumped the lamp into it. Sparks went flying and there was a crackle of electricity, and then everything went dark. It didn't take more than a second before loud voices were heard from down the hall, angered by the loss of electricity, and Jim grinned at Uhura and shrugged. "It's been driving me crazy for weeks. Problem solved, settings changed, and I'll have no epilepsy-inducing flickering keeping me from getting a good nights sleep tonight."

Her eyes were focused on his face as he spoke about death and children smiling in the middle of chaos. They weren't the words of someone who'd lived an ordinary life, and she wondered what it was he had seen. She didn't know what to make of the fact that she envied him that vision. He'd clearly seen things that were heartbreaking and painful, but at this point anything felt better than ignorance.

For a moment he seemed to be considering something and then he jumped up and ran into the bathroom. She stared after him, confused when she heard the bathtub turn on. He asked her to light candles, and though she had no idea what he was thinking she walked over to the kitchen lit a candle. She was glancing around in hopes of finding a candlestick when Jim grabbed her hand and pulled her and the lamp into the bathroom.

She still wasn't sure where he was going with all this until he tossed the lamp into the bathtub. She jerked back slightly as sparks went flying, and then everything went dark. The only light remaining was the candle in her hand. For a long moment she just blinked in surprise, trying to process what had just happened.

And then she cracked up. She had to lean against the wall for support, pressing a hand to her face as she nearly collapsed in peals of laughter. Jim was completely and utterly ridiculous, but he'd just effectively shown her that if you wanted to transform your world, it might be as simple as that. It took her a few moments to quell her laughter long enough to actually say anything. “And just like that our whole world changes,” she said, feeling more relaxed than she could remember feeling in a long time. She smiled fondly at him, watching the candlelight flicker across his face. “I take it back. I don't think there's anyone like you, Jim,” she said, still laughing. She let out a long breath. “I didn't mean to sound so morose. I'm not about to give up so easily on finding my own happiness. And as for my setting.. I'm here with you, aren't I? Learning to dance and watching you short-circuit your building's electricity. And hopefully next week I'll be singing during business hours at the diner.” Her smile turned slightly contemplative. “I'm not going to be able to do everything I wish I could, but I'm going to learn to dance, and maybe... Maybe there's hope for the rest of it, as well.”

She couldn't quite voice her other wishes aloud, because she wasn't sure how much hope there really was, but something about Jim's antics made her want to believe that it was. For the moment, however, she was sure of one thing: she was going to treasure this strange memory. She couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed quite this hard. “Jim, are we going to continue the dance lesson in the dark?"

There was a long moment where he was sure she'd call him insane and storm out, and he tensed as he waited for the other shoe to drop. But then... Then she surprised him once more and laughed. Really laughed and it was possibly one of the best sounds he'd ever heard. The sound was infectious and soon, he was laughing along with her, each disgruntled yell from one of his neighbors prompting another fit of laughter until he had tears in his eyes and was clutching his stomach.

It seemed he'd made his point come across loud and clear, though, and he nodded as she spoke, trying to catch his breath. "Yep! Just like that," he laughed and marveled at the light in her eyes, at her smile, and at the simple fact he'd put it there by blowing every fuse in the building. He'd blow every fuse in the city to see that look on her face again, he thought suddenly, then blinked at the strange notion.

Words weighed on the tip of his tongue, waiting anxiously for him to speak them, words about how beautiful she was in the candlelight, about how he wanted to taste her lips to see if her laughter was as sweet as its sound, but he bit them back and listened to her speak. "I know there's no one like you," he replied softly and brought his hand up to cup her face in a gentle caress. "Don't ever give up hope, don't ever stop fighting for what you deserve. The day we stop fighting is the day we let bigotry and hate win."

Though his voice was still full of amusement, there was a serious and melancholy note in it, and he leaned in to press a chaste kiss to her forehead. Innocent and brief as it was, it made his heart skip a beat and he quickly pulled back with a sheepish smile before he got carried away and did something more, something he couldn't take back.

"In the dark and without music. Hmmm..." he mulled over her question and took her hand again to lead her out of the bathroom, moving slowly so the candle wouldn't blow out, then got out more candles and some candlesticks from a cupboard. "I think I've got a better idea..." After placing candles randomly around the room, he guided her to the chair in the corner and flopped down on the floor in front of her. "You've been an excellent student today," he smiled up at her and reached out for one of her feet, carefully unbuckling her shoe and sliding it off before pressing his thumbs lightly to the sole. "So you've deserved the very special Kirk footrub. Now, I don't do this for just anyone, or after every lesson, so if you want one in the future, you'll have to keep up the good work." It was almost a plausible explanation, and one he hoped covered for the fact that he really just wanted to keep touching her.

It shouldn't make her laugh harder that the neighbors were yelling about the lack of light, but everything was hilarious right now, and she simply couldn't stop shaking with mirth. Soon he was laughing along with her, and the sound rang through the apartment, clear and bright and perfect, just like his eyes and his smile and his music. Whenever she managed to momentarily calm her giggle fit, she just smiled at him, not quite sure how to express her gratitude at the fact that he'd short-circuited the electricity just for her.

Her laughter quieted a little as he cupped her cheek and told her there was no one like her. “I won't give up,” she said quietly. “And that's a promise. I've never been very good at giving up anyway.” Jim made her want so badly to hope for something better, and while part of her protested that she was being naïve, right now she didn't care. Right now she wanted to live in hope. Besides, my life is already better now that Jim is part of it, she realized with a strange jolt.

She smiled up at him, eyes widening slightly when he pressed a kiss to her forehead. The simple touch did something strange to her heart, and it felt as if she could feel his lips against her skin even though he'd pulled away. She tried to shake off the unfamiliar emotions and hoped her blush wasn't too obvious in the candlelight.

Her heartbeat wouldn't slow down as he took her hand and led her out of the bathroom. The candles he set up transformed the room into something that looked more like a fairy tale than a New York apartment. He really can transform our world, she thought, and then almost laughed at the strange thought. “I'm sure your idea will be strange and wonderful,” she replied, amused and curious as he led her over to a chair and dropped to the floor in front of her. Her brow furrowed in confusion as he reached for her foot and started to unbuckle the fastenings of her shoe. When he explained his intentions, her eyes widened again in surprise. A foot rub sounded unbelievably nice, but he shouldn't be doing all this for her. All the attention he lavished on her kept the blush on her cheeks. “Jim, that's very thoughtful, but you really don't have to do that...”

How this evening had turned from him giving her a dancing lesson and trying valiantly to restrain himself, to him sitting in front of her and trying valiantly to restrain himself as he rubbed her feet, he didn't think he'd ever know. But somewhere along the line, maybe when she'd opened up to him, it had become more acceptable for him to do the same. To let himself go, just a little bit, and be more at ease with her. That it had the side effect of him letting on that he was attracted to her... Well, she hadn't shot him down yet, so it wasn't a problem until one of them made it one.

Holding her ankle with one hand, his fingers idly caressing it, he used the fingers of the other to work the soreness from her foot. "I don't have to, no," he agreed conversationally and gave her an earnest look. "But have you considered that I might want to?"

Letting the question hang in the air, he dropped his gaze to his fingers on her skin, wondering just how she'd managed to sweep the rug so thoroughly out from under his own feet. He hadn't even noticed she'd done it, but it was beginning to dawn on him just what was going on and how very dangerous a game he was getting himself caught up in. Times like this, he wished more than anything that Sam was around to give him a firm smack upside his thick head and knock some sense into it. Now, there was nothing but the ghost of a voice to chastise him, tease him mercilessly and then ask him gently if this was as serious as he thought it was.

"I don't give up either, I've never known how," he muttered, more to voices that had been forever silenced than to her as the ghost in his mind rolled his eyes and mussed Jim's hair with an affectionate laugh.

She wasn't entirely sure how they'd ended up sitting in the candlelight with his hands gently caressing her feet, but she couldn't bring herself to complain, especially when it felt so unbelievably good. Her feet were sore from the dancing, and a contented sigh escaped her lips as his fingers untangled the pain and tightness in her muscles. Her eyelashes fluttered a little.

The corners of her mouth ticked upwards in a smile at his words. “You want to teach me to dance. You want to rub my feet. The things you want always work out so well for me,” she replied, amused and a little confused that he wanted to rub her feet. “And I've found something else you're good at,” she added, looking down at him fondly. “Though this is one favor I can return. I give good massages.” She leaned back a little in the chair, relaxing under his touch even though she couldn't quite keep her eyes off his hands on her skin.

Why is he doing all this? Part of her was convinced that it was just because he was a generous person. She'd known him long enough to know that kindness was a part of his personality, but that didn't really explain all the things he did for her. She wanted to believe it was because he cared for her, because she knew she was becoming attached to him. In fact, she was fairly certain she was addicted to his presence. She didn't really know what to do with that thought, except hope that he'd continue to be a part of her life.

He muttered that he didn't know how to give up, and something in his voice made her uncertain if he was even talking to her. She answered anyway, voice quiet because it felt right to speak quietly in the candlelight. “I hope you never learn.”

Her voice brought him out of his maudlin trip down memory lane, and he looked up at her as she spoke, taking in the sight of her; relaxed, happy and about to melt into the chair. He kind of wanted to keep her like that forever, just in this moment with him and the soft light from the candles dancing on her face. Yep, he thought with a voice that wasn't his own. You've got it bad, Jimmy.

The fond look in her eyes as she smiled at him made a tiny shimmer of hope flutter in his chest. Maybe there was a chance that fondness would be something more one day. But then she efficiently killed all fanciful musings with her next comment. A massage. It had been years since he'd had one, but that wasn't the reason his eyes widened incredulously. A massage would mean her hands on his skin. More precisely, on his naked back. "That would--" he paused and tried to keep his imagination from running away with him. "I can't actually remember the last time I had a massage."

He worried his lip and picked up her other foot to give it the same treatment, never taking his eyes off her. "Did you mean now? After I'm done with your feet, or..." he trailed off, trying not to let it show just how much he wanted that. It was insane, it was going to be hell to keep his body from reacting too obviously, but it would be worth every second to feel her hands on him.

It felt as if she were about to melt as he kept massaging her feet, and she couldn't withhold small hums and sighs of satisfaction. They were getting slightly louder, so she bit her lip in an attempt to quiet them, but let her eyes flutter closed for a moment. He really was much too good at this. She could almost fall asleep under his ministrations.

He seemed a little startled by her offer, and she opened her eyes to look down at him curiously. Was it really so surprising that she'd want to do something for him when he did so much for her? “I give my siblings massages all the time,” she replied lightly, wondering at his reaction. She really should have thought of this possibility earlier. He was undoubtedly sore from dancing all the time. Besides, he was giving her such a lovely foot massage after teaching her the quickstep, cooking her dinner, and short-circuiting the electricity just to show her that it was possible to change one's environment.

And... she liked the idea of doing something that would make him feel good. She wanted to elicit the same happy sighs he was drawing from her lips. It was a strange desire, but she felt as if she'd entered some surreal, candlelit world where she could truly relax and give in to her whims. “Whenever you want,” she replied to his question, smiling down at him as he worried his lip. “Maybe when you're done with my feet? That feels wonderful, by the way.”

The sounds she was making were incredibly distracting, and if nothing else, the massage she wanted to give him would put a stop to them before he did something stupid like slide his hands up her legs, or lift her foot to kiss it. Ideas like that weren't going to get him anything but an empty apartment after she'd fled, he was sure.

She didn't seem to pick up on the difference between giving your siblings a massage and giving one to someone you weren't related to, someone of the opposite sex. Someone who might just be a little bit in love with her. He almost felt guilty for abusing her innocence like this, but she kept saying she wanted to do something for him. He reasoned that it was only fair to give her the opportunity to, even if she didn't know just what and how much she'd be doing for him. It was a flimsy excuse, but it was enough to let him allow himself to take what she offered.

"I'm glad it does, that's kinda the point of a footrub," he joked and took his time in finishing with her foot. It was the only chance he'd get to touch her like this, and he wasn't going to waste it.

Soon, however, he couldn't draw it out much longer, and he lowered her foot back to the floor. "So..." he hesitated for a moment and sat up a bit straighter. His pulse was beating a staccato rhythm in his chest, and he firmly reminded himself that he hadn't been neither a teenager nor a blushing virgin for a very long time. In a quick, decisive move, he pulled off his shirt and looked at her expectantly. "Where do you want me?"

She let herself relax completely under his touch, and just laughed softly at his comment about the point of the foot rub. It was difficult to feel anything but unbelievably happy right now, and she let her eyes drift closed again and hummed softly as he finished massaging her feet. It took her a moment to figure out that she was humming one of his songs, which made her laugh happily again.

He finally lowered her foot to the floor, and she opened her eyes. “Thank you,” she said, feeling almost blissfully relaxed. She wondered if there really was a possibility he would give her more foot massages if she was an excellent dance student, but didn't suppose she ought to get used to it.

And then he suddenly pulled his shirt off, and her heart momentarily stalled in her chest as her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes trailed down his body of their own accord, and her brain almost didn't register the question he asked her. When it finally sunk in, her eyes snapped back to his, slightly wide in surprised confusion. “Uh...” She blinked, trying to make her brain work properly. Just where has your mind gone, Nyota? she chastised. She'd already known he was handsome. Now wasn't really the time to let her mind run away with her, but she was beginning to wonder if this wasn't such a good idea after all.

Trying to shake off the reaction, she tried to actually consider his question. “Wherever you want. It would be a little easier if you were lying down, but it's up to you.”

For a long moment, she simply stared at him, and even with the low lighting, he could tell she was blushing. He was almost tempted to put his shirt back on and tell her it was okay to forget about the massage, but that would mean he'd have to call her out on her reaction, and he really didn't want to cause her more embarrassment than necessary.

Her eyes finally snapped up to meet his again, and she looked a little dazed as she tried to speak. It was a little endearing, if he was quite honest with himself. She probably hadn't ever seen a man she wasn't related to without his shirt, and he felt an odd satisfaction at the knowledge that he was the one she'd compare others to down the line.

True to form, she didn't back down from this, even if it wasn't a challenge. She even suggested he lie down, and they both knew there was really only one place in the apartment he could do that. "Okay..." he said slowly and rose to his feet, then made his way over to the bed without looking over his shoulder at her. He'd let her look her fill and grow a little more accustomed to the sight without having to worry about him catching her at it.

A devilish thought entered his mind and he knew she couldn't see the little smirk on his face when he lifted his arms over his head and stretched. Why should he be the only one affected, anyway? "This okay?" he asked innocently and laid down on his stomach, grabbing a pillow to hold his head up.

There was no way he hadn't noticed her staring, and she was immensely grateful that he didn't mention it. She kept her eyes firmly on his face, feeling a little guilty and very strange. Her heart was racing a little, and she was still having trouble breathing properly. She tired to rationalize that she just wasn't used to men she wasn't related to taking their shirts off. Embarrassed as she was, she wasn't going to withdraw her offer. She didn't know how to back out without admitting how affected she was, and she still wanted the chance to return all his kindnesses. At least, those were the reasons she repeated to herself over and over again.

Jim stood up and walked towards the bed, and she had to swallow the lump in her throat. Now that he was turned away she couldn't keep her eyes off his back, and it took her a moment to summon the gumption to stand up and follow. She was still flustered and trying desperately not to be. Just when she thought she might get her breathing under control, Jim stretched his hands over his head, making the muscles on his back stand out. The blush returned with a vengeance.

She watched him lie down and walked slowly after him. “That's fine,” she replied shortly, forcing herself to speak calmly. She wasn't going to let her reactions run away with her. “Wherever you're comfortable.” Her voice sounded a little more normal now, and she took a deep, silent breath before sitting down on the bed next to him. For a moment she couldn't quite bring herself to touch him, even though she wanted to. Her eyes wandered over his skin.

Nyota, stop being ridiculous, she chastised herself, and then placed her hands firmly on his skin. She wasn't going to let her nervousness stop her from doing this right. She started by just running her hands along both sides of his spine, gradually increasing pressure with the heals of her hands. Then she worked over the muscles with slow, circular motions, taking note of the numerous knots to return to later. Next her hands moved to rub slow circles over his shoulder blades, working up towards his neck. It was an easy routine to fall into, and she tried not to think too hard about what she was doing. She was glad he couldn't see her face anymore, because she was still blushing, and she was certain he must be able to hear her heart racing.

Even though she tried to keep her voice calm, there was a slight breathlessness in it that betrayed how the sight of him affected her. The thought that he was even able to get a response like that from her sent a little thread of heat weaving up his spine. It made accepting the massage from her a little easier on his conscience, made it feel a little less like he was taking advantage.

As he heard her move closer, he turned his face into the pillow, crossing his arms over his head to support it. The bed dipped a little when she sat down, and he tensed a little in anticipation. She hesitated and he had a moment's fear that she might change her mind, but then her hands were on his skin. Despite anticipating the touch, it made him suck it a sharp breath, then release it on a contented sigh as her hands moved up his back.

He hadn't been lying when he'd said it had been years since he'd last had a massage, but he couldn't remember ever having one that felt like this. Each move of her hands both electrified and relaxed him, and though he bit down on his lip, he couldn't keep in a soft groan as she started in on his shoulders. "God, that feels great," he mumbled into the pillow, feeling the tension drain away from his muscles.

If she was nervous or apprehensive about this, he couldn't tell. Her hands were sure and practiced, and while the fact that they were her hands made each touch almost impossibly arousing, he couldn't help melting into the mattress under her ministrations.

She didn't trust herself to say anything more, because she knew how much her voice was giving away. When she'd offered to give him a massage she'd had no idea she would react this way. But I should have known, she scolded himself. I always react so strangely to him. The gasp that escaped his lips when she finally put her hands on him sent another little shiver through her, but she continued moving her hands purposefully over his skin.

The groan made her breath catch in her throat, and she had to force herself not to continue, kneading harder now that the muscles were warmed up. She tried to ignore the way the sound affected her, the way his compliment made her stomach squirm a little. “That's kind of the point of the massage,” she teased, though it didn't come out quite as confidently as she wanted it to.

She kept working over his shoulders for a while, finding more than a few knots and rubbing gentle circles over them with the pad of her thumb before gradually increasing the pressure to work them out of his muscles. Eventually she started to move her hands down the sides of his spine again, rubbing in circular motions and pausing to work out knots and kinks. She tried to focus on kneading the muscles and not the fact that touching his bare skin was sending little tendrils of sensation running up through her fingers. She'd never touched anyone she wasn't related to like this, and it was completely different than giving massages to her siblings. Or maybe it's just because it's Jim...

If this was what he got in return for dancing lessons and a foot rub, he'd have no problem spending years teaching her every dance step he knew and rubbing her feet after. Though there was a bit of soreness when she worked the knots out of his muscles, it wasn't anywhere near painful. It felt much too good to be associated with any kind of pain, and he breathed deeply in time with the strokes of her hands.

She returned his earlier remark about massages, and he smiled into the pillow. Her voice was still a little hesitant, but where it lacked confidence, her hands more than made up for it. "I'll have to start watching my mouth around you," he muttered amusedly, much too aware of the double meaning in those words. "You're going to wreck havoc on my peace of mind." The addition came out on a wistful sigh, and though they were technically still talking about her parroting his words, it wasn't what he meant. She was already turning his world on its ear, and it scared him that he felt so much for her already.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice commented dryly that it was a classic Jim Kirk move to fall hopelessly for the one girl he could never have, that he always got himself caught in impossible situations. No no-win scenarios. They didn't exist for him, and he wouldn't let this prove him wrong.

Her hands moved lower, and she attacked each bit on tension like she did the challenges he threw at her. A little grunt escaped him when she dug her thumbs into a particularly nasty knot, but he hurried to reassure her. "S'alright, keep going. In fact, don't ever stop..."

She nodded in satisfaction as his breathing evened out. Even though she was still a little breathless and hypersensitive to the feel of his skin under her hands, she was relaxing into the routine of working out the knots in his back. She could feel him relaxing under her hands, and it brought a smile to her face to know that she was drawing the tension from his muscles and making him melt into the mattress. She worked down both sides of his spine, then focused on just the right side, alternating hands as she pressed against his skin. Then both hands worked their way up the left side.

She raised an eyebrow when he said he's have to watch his mouth around her. “You don't strike me as someone who's good at watching his mouth,” she replied lightly, grateful that her voice finally sounded almost normal. His next words, however, made her brow knit in confusion even as they sent a little thrill of excitement through her that she didn't entirely understand. He was talking about their verbal sparring, not about her bizarre wish that she was transforming his world the same way he was transforming hers. “I'm trying to increase your peace of mind, not wreck havoc on it,” she teased, still trying to keep the words light even though other emotions were creeping into her voice.

He grunted when she dug her thumb into another knot, and she might have stopped if he hadn't told her to keep going, to never stop... She swallowed hard. “If I never stopped you're going to end up very sore,” she murmured, finishing on the knot and then moving her hands up to knead his shoulders and then his neck. The candlelight flickered over his back, and she was a little mesmerized by the light bending over his skin as she massaged it.

His eyes had long since drifted shut, and as the silence stretched out between the few words they exchanged, his mind conjured up fanciful images of what might have been had the world been different. In a different world, he could have turned over and pulled her into his arms, he could have looked openly into her eyes and let her see the depth of emotion in his, he could have leaned in for a soft kiss and spent the whole night making love to her in the candlelight. In another world, he could have allowed himself to love her freely instead of having to fight against it with each breath he took.

He snorted at her comment that he wasn't good at watching his mouth. "You'd be surprised." If there was one thing he was extremely conscious of, it was what he said and the effect it had on others. Yet somehow, she managed to make him over speak more than anyone else had in years.

Her voice took on a new timbre, one he hadn't heard before, and he concentrated on trying to interpret what the change meant. It wasn't easy to concentrate on much of anything though, not with the way her hands kneaded and caressed his skin, leaving fiery passion in their wake. A small shudder ran through him before he could stop it, and he huffed out what was supposed to be and amused laugh. "I think it might just be worth it," he mused, thinking that he'd suffer much worse than soreness to keep her in this moment forever.

Jim's muscles were relaxed from her early ministrations, and she could finally move to deeper movements, using both hands to squeeze and roll the muscles under her hands. As she did so she tried to identify what it was she was feeling, what desires were creeping into her voice. While her body's reaction was something she'd rather not think about, there was something else there too. This was about more than just wanting to do something nice for him; this was about wanting to affect him. She wanted her words and touches to cause in him the same strong emotions that he caused in her. It didn't seem like a terribly realistic wish, because most of their friendship seemed to be about him teaching and helping and encouraging her, but she couldn't help wishing that in some way she could do the same for him.

“I don't want you to keep your mouth shut around me, either,” she said softly, remembering their earlier conversation. She couldn't feel any more knots in his back, so she started gradually decreasing the pressure, rubbing up and down his back to soothe the muscles. Her eyes were glued to his skin, her hands sensitive to his every slight movement, so the little shudder that ran through him seemed to reverberate through her, making her breath hitch ever so slightly. She managed to laugh softly when he said it might be worth it. “I'll take that as a compliment,” she replied, continuing to decrease the pressure of her hands until she was just rubbing gentle, soothing circles over his skin. “But I'm about done, unless there's anything I've missed.”

Her movements gradually softened and slowed, and he chastised himself for feeling bereft of her touch already. She was still rubbing his back gently, her touch more caressing than massaging, so it was stupid to feel like she'd already pulled away. While she'd requested that he speak as openly as he'd asked her to, he very much doubted she knew just how dangerous a thing she asked of him. He swallowed thickly, hoping his voice didn't come across as hoarse with need and desire as it sounded to his own ears.

"I want so many things... Maybe someday, I'll be able to tell you about them," he murmured and turned his head to look at her. He had no doubt he was a little flushed, his eyes betraying his desire, but he had a vague hope she wouldn't know how to interpret the look. Shifting a little, he bit back a moan as the movement caused some rather pleasurable but entirely inappropriate friction to his groin. He'd need more than a moment to calm himself before he was anywhere near presentable to see her to the door, or even stand up, despite the low lighting of the room.

Her hands were still moving in tantalizing circles over his skin, and it was almost as if she was as reluctant to end the contact as he was. It stoked a small hope withing him, and maybe he was deluding himself, but he'd at least let himself take this small chance. Unwinding his arms from under the pillow, he rested his head on one and reached out with the other to put his hand on her knee, watching with fascination as his thumb caressed her lightly. "I don't know, is there? Something you've missed?" His eyes flicked up to her face, looking at her openly and guilelessly.

[SOL! Verse - Walk a Mile in My Shoes]

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